TechnoAnxiety

Week 8 pt 1: Earthquake

Then black. 

The dust settles, and Philza Minecraft crawls out from under his table, surveying the damage as he sets his eyes on the stairs. Shaking dust off of his wing, he runs towards the stairs, jumping from broken stair to stair, using his wings to lift him off of the ground slightly. He could feel sorry for himself later, right now his priority is his sons. A crash resounds as a shelf of plates fall to the ground behind him, but Phil pays no attention to it.

"Wilbur! Tommy! Techno!" He yells, listening for an answer. He enters Wilbur's room in time to see him crawling out from under the bed, dusty and his hair a mess. Phil's eyes widen as another bookshelf looks like it was going to fall on Wilbur, and he dashes forward, hugging his son and protecting him with his wings as the bookshelf falls. Phil winces against the pain, but quickly stands up, dislodging the bookshelf. 

Phil surveys Wilbur, who had a large cut along his face, and bruises starting to form already. Catching ahold of Wilbur's hand, he dashes to the next room. "Come on Wil, we can treat that later, we need to find the others."  Distantly, he can see Wilbur nodding, holding his injured arm close to his body.

Phil bursts into Tommy's room, and he pales. "Kid, are you ok?" He shouts, looking around the room. Hearing a groan, he sighs in relief. "Where are you?"

"'m in the closet!" Tommy responds. "It's getti' hard to breath.." He adds, eyes fluttering. 

Phil swears. "Wilbur, I know you're hurt, but I need your help." He says, turning towards the brunette. Wilbur nods. "We need to get the closet off of the floor." 

With a combined effort, the closet is elevated off of the floor, Wilbur groaning from the pain in his arm. They flung open the doors to the closet, and Tommy tumbles out, gasping for air. 

"I'll," Tommy gasps in between breaths. "I'll catch up! Get to Techno!" Seeing their hesitation, Tommy scowls, gesturing to the door. "Go!" 

Phil and Wilbur share a look, before exiting the room. Tommy sits there for a bit, catching his breath, before pushing himself up on one leg, and as he does pain shoots through it. Tommy winces, before limping to Techno's room. 

"Techno!" Phil yells. "Techno, where are you?" He shouts around the room, looking and hoping for any sign at all that his son was alive. He falls silent. "Techno?" 

As the lights flicker off, he manages to get a glimpse of a gold watch, laying on a pale hand which was being crushed. "Techno!" He yells, jumping over the debris. Tommy joins them, limping on one leg.

Wilbur curses. "Where is he?" He asks, knowing the answer as he stares at the bookshelf and fan on the bed.

"Help!" Phil yells over his shoulder, struggling to get the bookshelf off of the bed, and therefore Techno. Wilbur and Tommy rush over, and with their help, he pushes the bookshelf upright, paling at the sight in front of him. 

Techno was laying there, blood surrounding him, hands over his head as red-stained pink hair surrounds him. His pajama top, patterned with yellow crowns, was stained with blood, and Phil prayed that he could see any sign of life, that he was breathing.

Techno's chest rises and falls, slowly.

Phil snaps out of it, clicking his fingers in front of Wilbur and Tommy's faces. "Go to the black bag," He instructs, as he pulls Techno off of the bed, laying him on on of the only clear patches of floor. "Get the first-aid kit. Hurry!" He yells as he takes Techno's pulse. 

It was so cold. The skin was so cold and the pulse was so, so weak, thready and barely there. 

"Here." Tommy says, handing the kit to him. Phil takes it, splitting open Techno's shirt with a pocket knife, to access the wound. Phil almost wants to vomit, but he doesn't. A deep gash on his shoulder was visible, his back crushed by books, and he had a deep cut on his lower back, so deep he could see bone, and he had so many more wounds-